


Serenity

by ghee (sabakunoghee)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21509998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabakunoghee/pseuds/ghee
Summary: “If you’re willing to help me erasing my pain, Jiraiya-san,”“Please, I’m too weak, I couldn’t even finish what I started.”T rated | Canon/IC | AngstA oneshot about Hatake Sakumo, Jiraiya, and a legacy.
Relationships: Hatake Sakumo & Jiraiya
Kudos: 7





	Serenity

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. Written in the middle of office meeting.

As soon as he heard about that horrible news, Jiraiya rushed himself to the Hatake residence; only to find the leader of the clan, the White Fang himself, in solemn  _ seiza _ position, sitting in the middle of the dark living room. The young  _ Sannin _ stepped inside the house with his flaring  _ chakra _ dancing to silently announce his presence. He said nothing but they both understood – Hatake Sakumo didn’t flinch even a bit when Jiraiya joined him, obviously entering his bubble space. The toad summoner examining Sakumo’s expression; it was hollow, his usually sharp eyes now stared into nothingness, his lips trembled as he asked in horror,

“We lost the battle, didn’t we?”

Jiraiya gulped hard. He nodded without seeing Sakumo’s face, “But it wasn’t your fault—”

“It was,” the esteemed fighter interrupted, facing the man who stood by him, forcing himself to form a smile with those stiff lips of his, “It was, Jiraiya-san,” Sakumo hissed, “Abandoning the main objective and brought a shameful, massive casualties for the village, this is  _ indeed _ my wrongdoing. I have to admit it.”

“But – you saved your comrades,” he knew that his argument was weak; but Jiraiya, at least, wanted to state the bitter truth. Even though he knew, he heard what those rescued  _ shinobi _ said about Sakumo – how he’d better leave them to death for the sake of the village. Jiraiya shook his head.  _ Shinobi _ wasn’t trained to have such sentimentality and to die in the middle of the battlefield was more honored compared to survive this way. Sakumo was so powerful that his ability was feared by other nations, but he had flaws: his delicate heart and his sense of nonsense humanity. Jiraiya sighed, “Listen, we still have to fight in upcoming war and—”

“I can’t fight, Jiraiya-san,” again, Sakumo’s serene voice interjected, the seriousness and calmness of his tone sent a shiver down Jiraiya’s spine. As if he was facing a dying soldier.

_ Oh. _

Sakumo  _ was _ dying. Even though he spoke and breathed, those negative thoughts were slowly consuming him, haunting his sleep, resulting a talking vessel with no soul beneath, “After that day, I tried to train, to fight like I usually did – but my body didn’t move as I wish, I can’t form a simple hand-seals, I lost my reflexes, I even can’t even properly hold a  _ kunai _ .”

Jiraiya quietly agreed; Sakumo didn’t –  _ or couldn’t  _ – control his  _ chakra _ , it almost felt like sitting beside an ordinary person who never trained to be a  _ ninja _ . Judging by those unhealed open wounds ripping his hands, Sakumo might have mutilated himself in torturous exercises to regain his capability. As much as he  _ knew _ that those gashes were intentionally  _ made _ ; Jiraiya wanted to deny the fact that Sakumo did this to himself.

His soul was lethally damaged he shut himself down,

“I don't feel pain anymore, Jiraiya-san, or at least, not… physically. I have done so much, as much as I could for Konoha but turned out it wasn't enough. I am _not_ enough,” Sakumo clenched his fist which rested on his lap, emotions erupted but he still managed to suppress the urge to blurt it all out, “And I could take it all, shall I accept the fact that I’m not strong enough to be a mere tool for our village. Because no matter how much I love our hometown, I value the life of others – _my comrades_ – more,” in a slow-motion, Sakumo was again eye to eye with the _Sannin_ , “I failed as a _shinobi_ for letting myself being a human.”

Jiraiya’s heart sank. At that exact moment, he realized it was beyond possible to save Sakumo from himself; he was completely detached from the reality, his personal perception of space and time distorted so badly Sakumo didn’t react normally when a powerful thunder hit the roof of the house. The rain was massively pouring outside and the splash of cold water reached the spot they were sitting, but neither of them was bothered enough to move away.

The  _ Sannin _ decided to stay as long as it was needed; for being there might be the only help he could offer.

(Perhaps, he was the  _ last _ resort.)

“Is there anything I can do to help you, Sakumo?”

Sakumo didn’t hesitate when he brought out a  _ tanto _ from inside his flak jacket and handed it to Jiraiya.

“If you’re willing to help me erasing my pain, Jiraiya-san,” in serenity, Sakumo forced his grip on Jiraiya's hand, made sure his grasp on the short sword tight, “Please, I’m too weak, I couldn’t even finish what I started.”

“Does it have to be this way?”

“I tried – but every time I pressed the blade against my skin, I wasn’t able to cut my veins, for I always think about leaving my beloved son alone in this cold…  _ cruel _ world,” Sakumo replied in a heavy tone, sadness and helplessness overshadowed his clarity of mind, “Still, it would be easier for him to hate me rather than living under the tainted name of a dishonored father.”

“Sakumo–”

“Please help me this once, would you, Jiraiya-san?”

His palms were dead cold, squeezing Jiraiya’s slightly shivering hands, damped in sweat touching the hard, wooden surface of the saber’s handle. Its sharp tip reflected the sheer radiance as the lighting in the dark sky competed to strike the ground. Sakumo wordlessly begged for a quick, painless death, for he couldn’t wait to have a peaceful moment, exhausted from all the bad words and blaming. Salvation was the only thing he did seek. And him, the legendary  _ shinobi _ who had survived countless killings and merciless annihilations, Sakumo put his final trust on. 

He thought he would be terrified, but his legs weren't shaking at all, his voice was clear and his eyes didn't shed any tears. On the contrary, he was  _ ready _ , he couldn’t wait any longer – Sakumo could never deny that isolation and loneliness affected him this much, this far; he was so empty the light couldn't penetrate his endless darkness and all the possible ways seemed to be unreal. Sakumo closed his eyes. Silently asking for forgiveness from his one and only son, quitely wishing for a reunion with his wife. 

Jiraiya couldn’t reach him. He was already dead when he decided to save his comrades. Sakumo smiled with his heads down, facing the floor, a humble and deep bow as he respected the strong soldier before him.

“Please take care of my son, that would be my only wish,” the legacy was being told in a clear voice, “Tell him, and spread the words to the whole village, that I committed this in my own will, and it was too late when you find me.”

That night, when the thunder roared and the rain fell, the blood was shed.

**Author's Note:**

> BrE /səˈrenəti/ ; NAmE /səˈrenəti/  
> [uncountable, singular]
> 
> the quality of being calm and peaceful


End file.
